A Cool King and his Sexy Squire
by Shhasow
Summary: A small collection of drabbles between Jonathan/Zahir.  Warning: these contain slash.  Written for Goldenlake's SMACKDOWN.


**A/N: **WARNING - these few unrelated drabbles contain slash. That is, Jonathan/Zahir in a relationship, one or two-sided. Please do not read if this offends you. It was new territory for myself, and interesting to explore, though not my preference. Most of these are irreverent at best, though one is serious. Consider yourself warned. Also, I do not own anything, and certainly not Tortall.

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><p><strong>A Cool King and his Sexy Squire<br>**

**Worst-Kept Secret, PG-13****  
><strong>**Summary:** Zahir sees something surprising. Warning for implied sex.

Zahir nodded to the flushed-faced woman with a pointed glance at the door she had just exited. Bereft of her normal impassiveness, she managed to retain enough thought to raise an eyebrow at the door he was about to enter.

He smirked. _He _had legitimate reasons to enter the kings chambers after all, and Zahir opened the door with exaggerated gestures.

As soon as Zahir turned his back to shut the door, he felt a pair of arms snake around his front and warm breath on his ear.

"Good morning, Jon."

"It is now," sighed the king.

"You will never believe who I just saw leaving Wyldon's chambers," announced the younger man as they moved towards more comfortable surroundings.

"Kel, I assume."

Zahir stopped short. "How did you know?"

Jon laughed, his white teeth glinting. "My dear, they are the worst-kept secret in Corus. Except for us, of course."

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><p><strong>Trials and Tribulations of a Tortallan Spymaster, PG-13<strong>**  
><strong>**Summary**: Myles receives yet another report about a possible illicit affair. Warning for implied sex.

Myles' normally cheerful face hardened at the bit of paper on his desk. It was yet another troubling report. The first could have been a misunderstanding, being only a scrap of a conversation taken out of context. He pulled it out from a folder labeled 'JZ' and read through it again.

_Old One_, (Myles' code name)

_Sparkles was last seen speaking with Regalnose_(King Jon and Zahir ibn Alhaz)

_...enjoyed last night... you're getting better - Sparkles_

_...you're finally keeping up with me... youth trumps experience - Regalnose_

_The pair continued along a public thoroughfare _(code for a private garden).

All of the other reports were similar. Sometimes they were behind closed doors, other times they rode out alone. One might mean nothing, but this was getting ridiculous. Myles sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. How he longed for cloak-and-dagger schemes, an assassination plot, anything other than secret assignations between the King and his old squire!

After the tenth report from an informant that detailed the king's continuing - and burgeoning - relationship with his ex-squire Zahir, Myles decided that he had held his tongue for long enough. When a little bird dropped _another_explicit conversation - Myles skimmed the code and groaned at the simply atrocious pet names - he decided to take action.

After dinner, Myles toddled off, like the drunk old man he often played, towards the king's rooms. He dropped the act, set a stern expression on his face, and knocked on the door. When a shirtless Jon opened the door, the spymaster groaned, as a naked Zahir was visible over his shoulder and Myles really didn't need to see _all_of the Bazhir. Especially his backside, as tight as it was.

Myles shut his eyes tightly to block out the sight.

"Mithros, Jon, could you at least be more discreet?"

The King glanced over his shoulder and had the decency to blush when his naked former squire was quite visible.

"Dear, why don't you grab a robe?" he hinted.

Myles slapped his own head with an open palm. "That's one way to announce your illict affair to the palace, to Thayet!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"If anyone was listening, they'd think I _was_talking about my wife. Besides, she already knows."

"What!"

Jon peered both ways down the empty corridor, then motioned him in. The older man followed reluctantly into the den of depravity.

Zahir reappeared, clothed only in a blue robe and a haughty smirk.

Myles shook his head. Neither of them had any shame. "Tell me about Thayet."

"She's been with Buri since before Alanna brought them to Tortall. You didn't know that?"

"There were rumors at first, but they were easily dismissed." _By me_, was implied.

Jon laughed. "Perhaps I should replace my spymaster if he cannot discover a relationship for two decades running!"

"At least they are discreet," Myles pointed out with a scowl, incredibly vexed that he had missed the the secret for so long, and that his King and Queen were apparently so licentious. Well, Jon especially. It was rather sad for Thayet, but Jon had no sympathy from him.

"We are too." Jon flipped a dismissive hand and leaned toward his paramour. "Aren't we?"

As king and knight decided to explore the physical aspect of their relationship, Myles fled, vowing to let the whole blasted kingdom go to hell.

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><p><strong>Tkaa's Odd Question, PG-13<strong>**  
><strong>**Summary:**Tkaa spies something unusual and asks his friend about it. Rating for implied sex.

"Good morning, Daine."

At the whispery words, the wildmage looked up from her anatomy book and smiled at the basilisk. "Hello Tkaa. How are you?"

Pause. "Daine, I have a question."

A light frown on her soft face, Daine put aside her book. Tkaa seemed somehow off-kilter, uneasy. "Sure thing. What is it?"

Pause. "A question about human mating practices."

Daine blushed furiously. "Is this about that time when you saw Numair and I..." She trailed off.

He shook his head once. "My questions on that front are long satisfied." Daine vaguely wondered just _who_had satisfied Tkaa's curiosity, but his next words drove the thought from her mind. "No, what I would like to know is whether it is customary human mating practice to procreate through another orifice." At Daine's open mouth and wide eyes, he continued, the tip of his tail flicking anxiously. "I had never before witnessed this, as you humans are normally very private, but both men seemed to be quite happy."

Daine choked. Tkaa sighed. "I fear I have offended you. My apologies, wildmage. Perhaps I shall ask your husband."

"No!" That word came out easily enough, though she struggled mightily to force out the next embarrassing parts. "It happens, I suppose. It-It's not very common, really, but some people." Daine shrugged helplessly.

Tkaa nodded thoughtfully, thanked her, and advised her not to travel down a certain path for a while. After Daine thanked him profusely, Tkaa continued his meandering stroll in the gardens. As he munched on a nice bit of precious stone, he reflected that it was likely a very good thing that he had not told his friend of the two males' identities. She might not have liked to know that it was her friend Jonathan and his former squire, the Bazhir Zahir, who were engaging in such an activity.

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><p><strong>Flood, PG<strong>  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Scars hold back a flood of emotion.

Zahir has a scar on his lip.

It comes from biting down to cause himself pain. A physical pain is easier to understand than emotional, after all, and with every passing day and week, Zahir gets much too much of the latter.

Nor does he say anything. Never a loquacious person, whenever Thayet is around, Zahir goes as quiet as a tomb. He never makes any noise. He hardly moves except to leave. He tries to be subtle, but he's not sure if Jon is fooled.

It's Thayet that causes the pain. More specifically, Thayet and Jon. She can't help it, just as he cannot help being absolutely desperately in love with his knight-master.

So he bites his lip to dam the flood of feelings and words from tumbling out in a deluge of emotion and hurt and anguish.

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><p><strong>Neal's Big Adventure, PG-13<strong>**  
><strong>**Summary:** Neal loves secrets, but this one is too much to handle. Warning for implied sex.

**A/N**: I love using Neal. He's such a crazy-yet-straight-laced character. And nosy, too.

Neal liked to think of himself as a collector. A collector of skills, words, poetry, but most of all, secrets.

His love of knowing what no one else did had driven him years ago to learn how to read lips to spy on the University masters. Now he stole stealthily down the palace's cold corridors, listening carefully for the whisper of hidden words, the padding of soft boots against stone that signaled secret meetings. Once he had even seen the Rider Commander Buri sneaking into Queen Thayet's quarters. Now _that_had been a good night.

So he flitted from shadow to shadow, peered down hallways, dodged guards, until he arrived back at the squire quarters. It had been a quiet night, being the last before the Ordeals of the year, and Neal was vaguely disappointed that he hadn't overheard anything incriminating about that bastard Joren.

Slightly put out, Neal entered his chambers and readied himself for bed. Just as he was falling asleep, rhythmic pounding sounded against the connecting wall to the squire next door, just barely audible.

Neal's eyes popped wide open, and he quickly oriented himself. The other wall would be Yancen, so that meant this wall belonged to Zahir.

The Bazhir wasn't his favorite person, much too haughty for Neal's liking, but he was a more decent sort after he stopped hanging with Joren, therefore Neal was mildly pleased that the squire got some action before his Ordeal.

The pounding continued, and Neal was about to call out some pithy remark about 'giving it to her good,' when the a man's low moan reverberated into his ear as if he were speaking right into the wall...

Wait, that wasn't Zahir.

"Oh, Jon," groaned another voice, echoing more distantly.

Neal tore off his covers and made a makeshift bed against Yancen's wall. He was absolutely positive that he recognized both voices. The second had been Zahir, but the first.

Well, the first had been the King.


End file.
